


Once Upon a Dream

by SpraceJunkie



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: Charlie Parelli: OC, M/M, Nick/wayne and donny/julia are mentioned, Nightmares, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, jimmy is a mess but at least Johnny loves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpraceJunkie/pseuds/SpraceJunkie
Summary: Heyo everybody I'm Asper and I love these boys to death which is of course why I'm writing angst fic about them.Come find me on Tumblr @enby-crutchie (although I just saved some Quality Johnny Simpson urls so that might changed hjdgjsajhdfkjh) and yell with me about musicals!





	Once Upon a Dream

_The water, during the sunset, always looked cleaner. When the sunlight hit it, and was tinted red, he could ignore how dirty he knew it was._

_Charlie was a master at standing close but not too close, at touching him just barely and subtly enough that nobody would notice they were doing anything more than taking a break and chatting._

_Something was off, and he knew it, but Charlie was whispering little promises in his ear._

_Promises about what they’d do when the war was over. How they’d get an apartment and he could study to be a lawyer and Charlie could write his book and nobody would ever know they were anything other than close friends._

_And then the ship lurched and he was falling, falling, and he was hitting the water and Charlie was gone, and he couldn’t see him, not in the water or the deck of the ship that was being pulled down, and he was being pulled down, and he tried to breathe and started to cough and sucked in more water-_

When Jimmy woke up, his face was wet, and that did nothing to ease the panic that was making his chest tighten and he was still underwater, he couldn’t breathe, it was so dark and he was stuck, he couldn’t move, he was going to drown and die, he couldn’t find the light and couldn’t swim.

“Jimmy! Jimmy it’s okay!” Somebody’s voice was right next to him and he couldn’t tell who was talking, and somebody was grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him up, and then he could see the light.

Right next to him, lighting up a bedside table, a glass of water and a picture of a man and a woman standing close together.

It took a few minutes for him to get his body back under his control, to process that it had just been a nightmare and he was safe in bed, to remember he was home, not on a ship, to remember the band and his friends and how his life was now.

When he stopped crying, he focused on the arms still wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close to a chest.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked quietly. Jimmy nodded, but his breathing was still shaky and his face was still wet and God he hated that feeling, it made him feel claustrophobic and…and weak.

It had been months, it had been so long, and he was still waking up like this regularly, and he hated it.

He rolled and pressed his face into Johnny’s shirt, focusing on his breathing.

Johnny rubbed circles on his back, his face was drying, and his head wasn’t spinning anymore.

The sun hadn’t even started to rise, but Jimmy knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep. Even if his body had relaxed, his mind hadn’t. He was imagining the room rocking like a ship, the sound of water, a piece of him was refusing to wake up, to realize he was on land, the ocean was nowhere around him, he was safe in Johnny’s arms. He wasn’t drowning.

He felt Johnny fall back asleep, his arms relaxed and let go, and Jimmy sat up, needing to do something to chase away the nervous energy.

Johnny’s apartment was small, just the one bedroom, living room, small kitchen and bathroom, and he didn’t want to wake Johnny up again, so he ended up sitting on the couch, flipping through a book Johnny had on his shelf.

His knees were still bouncing, and he couldn’t focus on the words in front of him. When he made himself focus, he realized it wasn’t even a normal book, it was a math textbook, alternating between equations and explanations.

After a few minutes, he closed the book and pulled on his coat and shoes from where he’d discarded them when they’d gotten home earlier.

Cleveland at night was a lot more relaxing than it was during the day. There were less people out, it was quieter, it was easy to just walk where his feet took him and let his mind go blank.

By the time he slipped back inside Johnny’s apartment, the sun was up and Johnny was in the kitchen, making something.

“Hi.” Jimmy sat down at the small table, attempting to force a smile but giving up when it felt more like a grimace.

“Morning, Jimmy. Did you have a nice walk?” Johnny gave him a genuine smile and passed him a cup of coffee.

“Yeah.”

Eggs. He was making eggs. And he’d already made bacon, and started to make two plates of food.

“Do you feel better?” Jimmy nodded, and this time, it was true.

In a few minutes, Jimmy sat down across from him, putting a plate of food down in front of both of them.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Both of them focused on their food, eating in silence.

Johnny finished first and put his plate in the sink, then moved to the living room. Jimmy watched him pick out a record and turn on the player, filling the small apartment with quiet, slow jazz music. When Jimmy finished eating, Johnny offered him a hand, pulling him into the more open living room and starting to dance.

He knew Jimmy too well.

Within a few minutes Jimmy was relaxed against Johnny’s chest, comfortable. Safe.

“Julia says it’s not healthy to never talk, you know.” Johnny said after a while.

“It was just a nightmare.” Jimmy said. “Stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“The nightmares are. It’s been so long, Jimmy, and it’s like I can’t sleep without reliving everything.”

“Maybe talking about it would help.” Johnny suggested. Jimmy just shook his head and pressed in even closer.

In the band, people talked about stuff. They were as close as a family, they spent hours and hours a week together, they’d travelled around the country together.

Everyone had known when Wayne and Nick’s living arrangement turned into something more, everyone had known when Donny and Julia finally figured themselves out, and they’d figured out pretty quickly when Jimmy and Johnny had gotten together, too.

They talked about the things that bothered them, about their nightmares and their traumas and the help they needed, and Jimmy listened, but he wasn’t the kind of person who ever really felt comfortable sharing that kind of thing with anyone. He never had.

He wasn’t sure if most of them knew anything at all beyond the fact that his ship had gone down. He knew none of them knew he’d lost the man he’d thought had been the love of his life. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to.

Even Johnny.

Especially Johnny.

Johnny was sweet and loving and kind, and so much smarter than anyone gave him credit for. He told ridiculous jokes and had a funny, sweet laugh, and he made Jimmy happier than he’d ever thought he’d get to be after he’d lost Charlie.

But he wasn’t _Charlie_. And some things, Jimmy liked better that way. He liked Johnny’s eyes and hair, and the way Johnny was tall enough for him to tuck his head under his chin when they danced like this.

But he’d loved so many things about Charlie. His cute little poems. The way he’d pointed out little reasons to be happy, every single morning.

Charlie and Johnny were just so different, and Jimmy didn’t want them to mix. He didn’t want Johnny to know that he woke up night after night dreaming about a different man, that however he happy he was when he was awake, when he was asleep, apparently he had different ideas.

He loved Johnny, but he still loved Charlie, too, and he was pretty sure talking about it wouldn’t erase that.

So it became a habit. Waking up too early, going for a walk, returning to whatever home he’d woken up in, and refusing to talk about his nightmares.

_He was in the water, it was dark and he was choking, he was drowning and watching Charlie sink, but it wasn’t Charlie, his hair was too dark, but he had to get to him and he couldn’t swim down and he couldn’t swim up, he was drowning and choking and stuck in place, watching Johnny sink, and as soon as it was Johnny it was Charlie again but it wasn’t, he was watching Johnny sink and everything was confusing and his chest hurt and there was water all around him and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but watch the dark, cold water surround him and surround the man he was watching sink too far away to catch_.

Jimmy really hated waking up with a wet face. Even once he had calmed down enough to know it was tears, not water, that he was still safe in bed with Johnny right next to him, it still reminded him that no matter how much the nightmare had been in his head, he’d really lived through that feeling, that feeling of being surrounded by cold darkness and not knowing which way was up.

He hated the water. He hated the way it felt on his face when it rained and when he showered and when he woke up with tears on his face. He hated the way it moved, not stopping for anything, the way it covered things up and swallowed things down, the way it was so big and overwhelming, the way it collected and grew until it was everything.

He didn’t even try to read anymore, just went straight for the door, pulling on his coat and shoes and knowing he’d likely be walking for hours, until the sun finally came up.

He wasn’t expecting the gentle tap on his shoulder and an arm slipping through his, and to look up and see Johnny walking quietly next to him.

They passed another person, and Johnny dropped his arm, but still walked just close enough that Jimmy could feel him there.

When the sun came up, they made their way back to Johnny’s apartment, had breakfast, and Johnny put on his slow, sweet record, practically holding Jimmy up while they more swayed in place than actually danced.

And he must have fallen asleep, because he woke up on the couch, his head in Johnny’s lap. He hadn’t dreamed at all, and he felt better rested than he had in a pretty long time.

“Jimmy, I want to help.” Johnny said quietly, carding a hand through his hair.

“I know.” There was a look in Johnny’s eye, like he just felt so helpless and lost, and that changed something about the way Jimmy felt.

“His name was Charlie.” He said, closing his eyes again.

“Who?”

“His name was Charlie. Charlie Parelli. We met on the ship. He…he wanted to be an author. He wrote me poems and notes and hid them in my pockets. He hid in tiny closets with me and sang songs to dance to, and watched sunsets with me so we could forget how horrible everything around us was.”

His face was wet. He hadn’t even realized he started crying, but now he couldn’t stop. It was loud, ugly sobs, and he twisted to hide his face in Johnny’s shirt, and he didn’t want to move.

“You loved him.”

“And…and he loved me.” Jimmy tried to breathe steadily, to finish the story he’d started. “We…we stood near the edge to watch the sunset. To pretend we were home, just watching a normal sunset. The…the ship…it…it was like it was going to fell over. I grabbed at the railing and held on, just for a second, he didn’t. He fell into the water, and the next thing I knew, I was falling, and I hit the water. I knew he couldn’t swim but my glasses fell off and the ship was falling apart and I couldn’t see him and I lost him, Johnny, he was just gone and I couldn’t find him. And I choked, I inhaled water and had to swim up before I could grab who I thought was him and I almost got hit by something falling and I couldn’t see anything. And every time I fall asleep, I go through it again. I lose him, and sometimes I lose you, and I don’t want to, anymore, Johnny, I…I want to forget. But I…I just drown, night after night.”

He was curled into a tight ball, his head in Johnny’s lap, still crying, his eyes screwed shut like that would help him stop seeing the flashes of memories that were coming up.

Johnny was his grounding point, on hand resting on his back, one still running through his hair, reminding him he was safe, he was okay, he was here and that was good.

“I’m here.” Johnny reminded him, keeping his touches gentle, like he was scared to break Jimmy.

It took a while for Jimmy to relax again. He had to focus to unclench his hands from Johnny’s shirt, to relax from the tight ball he’d made himself into.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. His face was still wet and he felt so claustrophobic, he needed his face to be dry, he needed to be dry. He swiped at his face with his shirt, and Johnny wordlessly pulled a blanket down from the cushions behind him, letting Jimmy use it to dry his face. “I’m sorry.” Jimmy was tired again, worn out from purposefully letting his emotions out for the first time in what felt like forever.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Johnny said.

“But I can’t move on, Johnny, I can’t forget him and I have you now.”

“None of us can, you know.” Johnny paused. “I don’t even remember what happened to me and I can’t move on. Donny still barely sleeps.”

“It’s not the same.” Jimmy insisted. “I’m…I’m still in love with him, Johnny.” Johnny shifted. Jimmy didn’t open his eyes, scared to see the look on Johnny’s face.

“I know that.” Johnny said after a while. “That’s okay, you know.”

“How is that okay? How is it okay that I love him and you and I can’t stop dreaming about him even when I’m sleeping next to you?”

“Cause I know you love me too. You tell me that all the time. Nobody expects you to just…forget.” Johnny sighed. “I love you, Jimmy. You don’t have to be sorry for remembering.” Johnny went back to slowly running his fingers through Jimmy’s hair. “Sometimes I wish I remember, you know.” He said quietly after a while. “And then you wake up, or Donny panics, or Davy says something serious, and I don’t anymore.”

Jimmy shook his head.

“You don’t, Johnny, you don’t want to remember.” He said. “Everything about it was horrible.”

“I know.”

They stayed on the couch for a long time, not really talking, just Jimmy resting his head in Johnny’s lap and Johnny rubbing his back and touching his hair, relaxing.

“Did talking about it help?” Johnny asked after a while.

“I don’t know.” Jimmy said, looking up at him. “Maybe.”

“Julia says it does.” Johnny said. “She’s always trying to get Davy and Donny to talk about it.”

“They don’t though.”

“Nah. Davy just tells jokes and Donny brushes her off.” Johnny pressed a quick kiss to the side of Jimmy’s head. “You did though.”

“Yeah. I did.” Jimmy sat up, leaning into Johnny’s side instead of lying across his lap. “And you know what?”

“What?”

“I think it did help.”

It was easy to stay that way until they had to go to rehearsal, and easy to go back to Johnny’s apartment after rehearsal and fall asleep curled into Johnny’s side, head over his heart.

_This time it was him and Johnny standing on the edge of the ship, watching the sunset. The ship jerked like it was going to tumble over sideways, and he was falling, falling, and Johnny’s hand was in his and they hit the water and he lost it and he couldn’t see anything but he’d let go of Johnny’s hand and he could see a shape next to him, sinking down, down, down into the dark, cold water, and he tried to swim down to the blur but he jerked to avoid something falling into the water next to him and he choked on the saltwater._

_He could taste it, the salt clogging his throat and nose, and he couldn’t breathe and he still couldn’t see, he’d lost sight of the shape falling down and if he didn’t get air soon he’d drown, he’d die surrounded by the cold dark wet water but he wasn’t sure which way was up and he was kicking but not moving and then his head broke the surface and he was choking on air and on water, both at once, and the world was glowing red but not with a sunset, with fire, and there was so much noise and the ship was going down, even without his glasses he could see its massive shape slowly sinking, and he knew if he didn’t swim far enough away he’d be dragged down with it_.

He woke up gasping for breath like he’d just been pulled out of the water, and Johnny was already drying his face with the blankets.

“Thanks.” He whispered, trying to get his breathing under control.

“I’ve got you.” That was sweet, sincere Johnny.

Johnny who held him and danced with him and didn’t care he was still in love with somebody else, as long as he was in love with him too, who made him breakfast and dried his face and noticed things nobody else did.

Who was whispering quiet promises in his ear and holding him tight until he stopped shaking. Johnny who was rocking back and forth gently and humming a song.

Jimmy hugged him around the waist, holding tight like if he let go Johnny would float away.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Jimmy.” He promise. “I’m right here.”

“I love you.” Jimmy whispered.

“I love you too.” Johnny replied.

For the first time in a long time, Jimmy fell back asleep in bed before the sun rose.

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo everybody I'm Asper and I love these boys to death which is of course why I'm writing angst fic about them.
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr @enby-crutchie (although I just saved some Quality Johnny Simpson urls so that might changed hjdgjsajhdfkjh) and yell with me about musicals!


End file.
